198: Why We Live
by Werewolf's Oneshots
Summary: If she wants to move forward, Sweat Pea has to learn to let go.


**Author's Note**

I think there's a lot more to Sucker Punch than meets the eye, and certainly more depth than most critics seem to give it. If you haven't already read about disassociation and brainwashing/mental programming; it's a fascinating subject that sheds a lot of light on the movie, and I'd recommend it. With those themes in mind the ending can be interpreted in an entirely different way. It's like watching two films at once, and depending on what you know and believe, it's two different stories. Two entirely different endings.

With that in mind, this is a tiny fan fic I wrote to comfort myself in the face of looming depression after watching Sucker Punch for a second time. It's not how I think the film should have ended (I think the ending was perfect), it's just to make me feel better, give me some hope that it isn't all over for Sweat Pea. I'd like to think of this as reiterating the lessons Sweat Pea told us at the end. Her narrative at the beginning and ends of the movie were really moving to me, and I hope I could give some of that to you as a reader.

Thanks for reading my story. :-)

-Mackenzi

_(P.S. Prompt #198, Acceptance)_

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"She has a long journey ahead of her."

The words echoed in her mind as the bus drove on. A long journey... she didn't care about any journey any more. No more missions, no more plans. She wanted everything to be _normal_ again. But now she felt so helpless and alone. Is this what victory was supposed to feel like? A bitter sacrifice? She'd never felt so powerless before; always she'd been able to control the situation, to protect her friends, her sister-

Her eyes welled up with tears and she covered her face with her hands. Rocket. Her sister. It was Sweat Pea's job to protect her, make sure nothing could hurt her. That was her _only_ job, and she'd failed. Lost Rocket forever.

She leaned against the window and sobbed, for what felt like years. All she could see was Rocket's face; her eyes full of optimism, her smile full of fire and excitement. She remembered how Rocket would talk about hope and happiness and freedom, even before Babydoll came. About escape and rescue and guardian angels. She wished she had one now, or at least had one before. Some shield bearing power to protect her when things went wrong. Now she saw Rocket's face so blank, void of life and love and just so wrong. Blood dripping from her side, the smallest wound. It looked so harmless.

And it was all her fault. She would give anything, her own life or the whole world, to rewind time and save her. Just shove her out of the way, or kick the knife out of his hands. If she had only been fast enough, brave enough.

And the others... Baby had said it was just the two of them. It wasn't hard to tell what happened. The gunshots rang even through the walls of the closet. It was never going to be "sorry Blue we won't do it again." She'd _warned _them, they just didn't listen, caught up in their delusions of freedom. She wound her fingers through her hair, wanting to just rip it all out, smash the window and use the glass to cut her own throat. Even through the tears she was so angry. They didn't listen to her! She had known how it would end!

The bus bumped its way over a rough road, jostling Sweat Pea in her seat. That wasn't true, of course. Out of all the possible endings to this story, she'd never expected it to just be her. Just Sweat Pea left in the whole wide world, no one to help her or show her the way, or just be there when she needed a shoulder to cry on. Babydoll... Baby almost made it. She could have made it. They fought so many enemies together, they could have handled those thugs at the gates. They could have served their asses to them on silver plates. But Baby had surrendered herself. She said Sweat Pea was the strongest of them- what could she possibly have seen in her? If anyone deserved to escape it was Baby, Baby who had wanted to break out in the first place, who had thought of the plan, who had the most to loose. Baby, who was right now with the god damned High Roller, leaving Sweat Pea on this stupid motherfucking bus to God knows where, completely lost. She could have saved her. Baby, or Rocket, or _someone_, but she didn't. She could only hate herself for it, and she drew her knees to her chest, and she wept.

After a decade alone in her murky thoughts, the bus came to a stop. She could hear somewhere beyond her bubble of sorrow the sounds of passengers unboarding. Another pit stop on the way to nowhere.

Then footsteps and the sound of someone brushing past the seats, coming in her direction. She looked up wearily, the rivulets of makeup drying her cheeks. She'd run out of tears.

In front of her stood the bus driver. He looked down at her, examining her condition, and she stared back blankly, not caring. The tiniest spark of familiarity flared in her mind, but she let it die. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Sweat Pea." His voice was comforting and friendly. She winced at these unfamiliar feelings, distrusting. "It's time for you to make a decision."

She straightened out her legs, brushed back her hair. She usually would have told this man to go screw himself, but something about him made her want to listen. His voice steered her memories back to better times, back to her sister.

"Don't fear your mistakes, Sweat Pea. You've known failure; keep moving. What's done is done. You need to look to the present moment, and beyond."

He gestured to the window. Sweat Pea gazed out, letting her eyes adjust to the daylight that she'd been shutting out. There was a billboard right outside the bus; PARADISE DINER. A memory sprang to life in her mind: Herself laying on the bed next to Rocket's, the other girls listening to Babydoll's insane plan. _Enjoy paradise_, she says sarcastically.  
>The billboard seemed sinister, a false promise, or perhaps a joke, as if the heaven it promised wasn't what she'd want in the end, and it already knew so.<p>

She looked away, out the opposite window. For a moment all looked peaceful, the sun rising in a rosy pink sky, open fields stretching further than she could see, and she wondered if she hadn't judged the sign prematurely. Then in the distance was movement. The entire skyline trembled and twitched. It looked as if millions of ants were running from the rising sun. But as they drew clearer she could see them for what they were; thousands and thousands of black figures, taller than the bus she was sitting in, so dark and wavering they might have been made of ink and shadow. They cackled and screamed, even from a distance she could hear their screams. Screams at _her_, to take them on.

She looked back at the wise man, scared. "How can I do this without them? They were everything!"

Calm as ever, he smiled at her. "You aren't alone. They're still in your heart, and part of your spirit." From a seat next to him he pulled a gun, big, black, semi-automatic. "Accept what happened, Sweatie. No man is rich enough to buy back his past. It's time to look to the future." He held out the gun to her.

"But I'm so tired..." She stared at the gun, the gears of her mind blazing at a million RPM. The faces of her girls flashed through her mind. Amber, Blondie, Rocket. Oh god Rocket. Babydoll. She thought of Baby in those last minutes, the only light in a world of darkness. Telling to her to run, reminding her that she still had the power to escape. In her eyes she could see that Baby believed in her.

_Be free._ _You have to live for all of us now._

Maybe she did have a guardian angel. She couldn't change what happened. But even now they were all waiting for her. Her angels, maybe with her the whole time. Maybe they knew it was her who'd make it all along. She could feel them now, whispering to her heart. Challenging her to stand.

"So did you lose your fight?" The man asked, not hurtful but curious. Testing her.

She stood, taking a deep breath. Her gaze was unwavering as she watched the demons come forward, long clawed fingers like knives shredding through the air.

Babydoll was right. This is her story, and she had to see it out. "No," she said, taking the gun. "I just found it."

He stood back and let her pass. She went to the front of the bus, stepped out the door. Cocked her gun. Her dress fluttered in the gentle wind as she aimed, the demons only a few hundred meters away.

"It's good to have you back. There's a hoard of angry demons out for blood and revenge. They're just shadows of self-doubt and hatred, not human at all. The slightest gunshot, knife jab, or punch through the head will destroy them. Good luck." He gave her a small salute. "Oh, and one more thing."

Sweat Pea glanced back. The wise man was sitting at the wheel again, starting up the engine, his hand on the door lever.

"Everyone has a guardian angel, Sweat Pea. They aren't here to fight our battles, but to remind that it's you. You have the power over the world you create. You have all the weapons you need. Now fight!"


End file.
